


One Night Stand

by gogoburritos



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Crossover, Cyberpunk, F/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, POV Rey (Star Wars), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Star Wars x Cyberpunk 2077, Star Wars/Cyberpunk 2077 Crossover, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28205520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gogoburritos/pseuds/gogoburritos
Summary: In 2077, Rey is a Corpo who has to go to the annual Militech holiday gala, where Militech pretends to care about the citizens of Night City. It’s a formality, and she doesn’t expect to see the motorcycle-riding, mysterious former Nomad whom she’s worked with once before in attendance. But she doesn’t mind going home with him.AKA the Reylo/Cyberpunk 2077 crossover AU no one asked for. Written for the Reylo Readers and Writers Marvellous Moodboard Event.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16
Collections: Reylo Readers & Writers - The Marvellous Moodboard Event





	One Night Stand

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This little fic was written for the Reylo Readers and Writers Marvellous Moodboard Event. It's my first ever fanfic that I'm posting here(!). 
> 
> Literally no one asked for a Reylo/Cyberpunk crossover, but here it is lol. It's inspired by the lovely moodboard by theresonatinglight here on AO3 and based on a side quest in Cyberpunk. 
> 
> Unbeta'd. Thanks for reading! And thank you, Reylo Readers and Writers, for the opportunity!

As always, the annual gala thrown by Militech includes tasteful decor, tasteful food, and tasteful live music, with everyone in attendance dressed to impress, their cyberware on full display and contrasting heavily with their formal attire. Rey Johnson doesn’t care for these farces, where it costs five hundred eddies per plate and she’s forced to sit through inane conversation with all of the people she would rather not have to spend more time with than she already does. But as an operations manager for Militech, she is essentially required to attend each year. 

At least the formal dinner portion of the gala is over and the mind numbingly boring “entertainment” is over. Now it’s just everyone--who is still here, that is--milling around with their cocktails and pretending they’re not trying to advance their own egos and ulterior motives whilst putting on a good show to the rest of the world. 

An Arasaka exec whose name she can’t remember has been bending her ear about iguanas of all things. He laments the days when you didn’t have to pay an arm and a leg for them. Since 2030, the iguana has been a protected animal on the endangered species list and therefore a rare commodity on the black market. She knows all this, and she is bored, to say the least. She is trying to figure out a way to extricate herself without offending the executive, a bad idea considering the most recent tentative truce between Militech and Arasaka. 

That’s when she sees him. Ben Solo. Ben fucking Solo. He’s the former Nomad turned NC merc who did that big job for her recently, finding and zeroing the Maelstrom guys who hit her Militech convoy and confirming the identity of the mole who was leaking intel on Militech convoys. And all it had cost her was ten thousand eddies and one measly Militech Flathead. He had done exactly what he had said he would and hadn’t tried to screw her over. Plus he’d been good at pretending they didn’t know each other afterward. 

So what the hell is the gonk doing here now? No way he bought a ticket to be here. Hired security perhaps? Must be.

She makes her excuses to the Arasaka exec at her side, feigning needing to visit the restroom, which is conveniently in the opposite direction of where Ben is standing in the far corner, his back to the wall. 

The restroom is as well appointed as the hotel’s ballroom, and it’s large and nearly empty. There’s one woman washing her hands at a sink so Rey goes into a stall for privacy. She pulls her cell phone out of her clutch and sends a message to Ben.

“What are you doing here?” her message reads. She waits in the stall for a response, feeling a little bit stupid. If he is here on some kind of strange security detail, he probably won’t be checking his phone any time soon. She sighs. Stupid. Then her phone buzzes. It’s a message from Ben.

“Eating and drinking on someone else’s eddie,” it says.

“Remember, you don’t know me,” she responds, before putting her phone away in her clutch and exiting the stall. 

If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll obey her. 

The screen over the sinks is set to mirror, and she gazes at herself. Her hair still looks impeccable, with its shoulder length, brushed out curls, and her wrap dress perfectly accentuates her minimal curves, a slice of her torso visible. She feels sexy in this outfit, even if it is lost on the lot of corpos and sycophants outside this bathroom. 

She feels the slight buzz of her phone again, and, against her better judgment, checks it.

“Shame. Was starting to like you.” 

It’s a message from Ben. Her heartbeat kicks up a notch, and a bit of warmth fills her belly. Damn gonk is a handsome one, with his dark hair that falls into his face, his stupid leather jacket, and that ARCH motorcycle he prefers. She’d felt attracted to him from their first meet. The only thing that had kept her from inviting him to meet her at a motel after he’d finished that job for her had been her own indecision. Is this her opportunity? It would certainly be better than spending much more time mingling at the gala.

“No-Tell Motel. 1st floor. Come alone.” 

She sends the message to Ben before she can think better of it and slips out of the bathroom and out of the hotel through a back way. She can only hope Ben will wait an appropriate amount of time before exiting the hotel himself. She calls her car around and heads to her nearby apartment first. She’s going to need a change of clothes.

  
  


*

Rey keeps room six at the No-Tell Motel reserved for whenever she needs a discreet meeting place. It’s a low-key motel outside of her neighborhood in the Westbrook district, in the Kabuki area of Watson. She doesn’t take her usual car there, the one given to her by Militech. Instead, she takes an older-model, small car that has no A.I. but a hell of a lot of copies clogging up NC’s streets.

She takes her time getting there, her more motel appropriate clothing sitting in a bag in the backseat. Ben had responded to her message with the pithy “I’ll be there.” If he’s beat her to the motel, he’ll most likely be waiting outside the locked door, but no matter, because the No-Tell Motel lives up to its name. It’s run by A.I. that are programmed for discretion. 

She parks the car a few blocks away and walks through part of Kabuki, the lined hood of her jacket pulled up over her head. It’s a long puffer jacket that covers her dress, and she’s wearing boots instead of heels now. She passes a crime scene where NCPD has cordoned off the area with holo tape that says “caution,” a cop standing at attention on the other side of the tape, looking bored. Also on the other side of the holo tape is a body that she only glimpses. Poor fucker. 

Inside the shitty room, she drops everything onto the bed, including her jacket. She pulls out the outfit she brought and begins to put it on one piece at a time. A strappy black bra with cut outs where her tits are, a black g-string with a strappy garter belt, and black thigh highs. If she felt sexy earlier, she feels positively powerful now. 

She sits back on the bed to wait, feeling herself getting wet at the thought of Ben Solo showing up in his leather jacket, seeing her, taking her in with his dark eyes, wanting her. His large hands holding onto her. His body surrounding her, pounding into her. 

She doesn’t have to wait long for him to show up. His tall frame basically dwarfs the doorframe he walks through, and he stops at the edge of the bed, his eyes fully on her. 

“Solo,” she says.

“So what now?” he asks. 

“Hmmm.” She uncrosses her legs and stands and then uses all of her strength, including from her cyberware, to push him onto the mattress. She bends over and runs her hands along his legs, knees to thighs to groin. His thighs are as muscular as she imagined they would be. His tight pants are beginning to tent where his cock is getting hard, and she rubs her palm against it. She can hear that his breathing hitches slightly--thanks to her cyberware enhanced hearing--and she mouths at his cock through the rough fabric. His hand goes to her hair but doesn’t pull or squeeze, just sits there. 

Unzipping the pants, she deftly pulls out his half hard cock. It’s bigger than she had imagined it being, thicker and circumcised. Her mouth waters at the sight before she begins licking, tasting. He smells musky and tastes salty, and she swipes the soft skin with her tongue a few more times, his breathing coming much more rapidly now, before swallowing him to the root. The tip of her nose lands in his hairless pubic area. 

Huh. She wouldn’t have guessed he’d opt for smooth. She continues with the blowjob, genuinely enjoying herself and also getting exceptionally wetter by the second. She can’t remember a time when she was so turned on by going down on someone, and she’s only gotten started.

“Fuck, Johnson,” Ben says. It sounds as if it’s come through gritted teeth. 

She removes her mouth from his cock with a pop. 

“That’s the idea,” she says and then licks her saliva-coated lips and dives back in, wrapping her fingers around the base of his cock. His hand tangles into her hair and tugs at it, and she looks up at him.

“Come up here,” he says. His voice sounds deeper than usual, with a gravelly edge. 

She takes her time getting up, anticipation tingling up her spine. He hauls her into his lap, and for a moment she thinks he might kiss her. That’s not part of this deal at all. But he doesn’t. Not on her lips anyway. He mouths at her tits, sucking her nipple roughly into his mouth. It sends a jolt of electricity to her pussy. He’s still wearing black motorcycle gloves, and, for a reason unknown to her, she finds that hot. She grinds against him and bites her lip, hard. And then she’s moving, landing on her back on the mattress as he rolls them over. 

They lock eyes. His eyelids are heavy with want. He shifts to his knees and pulls off the gloves, grabs her wrists, and then shoves her hands against the sheets. She gasps. His palm is heated against the skin of her wrist, and she can feel the grooves where cyberware had been implanted. He fingers a lock of her hair, almost caressing. She nearly closes her eyes. 

And then he strokes her through her underwear. 

“I can feel how wet you are,” he says. His fingers nudge the thin material aside and explore, quickly finding her opening. 

_Yes._ This is what she needs. He pushes one of his large fingers into her and begins stroking. He adds another, and she arches into it, panting. He fucks her with his fingers, but she wants something different. She wants the further stretch of his cock. She wants to feel it.

“Fingers are well and good, but how about that cock?” she says. It sounds like a demand rather than a question. 

He licks his lips and shifts his weight, letting go of her wrists. She takes the opportunity to roll them over so she’s on top of him, straddling his waist. She rucks up his shirt, revealing his scarred torso, and lines him up before sinking down onto him. The pain-pleasure is exquisite, the stretch and being filled up to the brim. She moans. 

“Fuck me,” he says. And she does. She rides him, trying to find that spot inside her. A change in angle has her moaning loudly. He grabs onto her arm and meets her thrust for thrust. She’s climbing fast, the bed creaking under their movements, and she’s distantly aware of how loud she’s being. His hand goes to one of her tits, gripping harshly, and she plunges over the edge, coming as he continues thrusting up into her, her thighs squeezing together of their own volition, her body quivering. He smacks her ass, and her vision goes hazy. He pulls out and moves her onto her hands and knees, and she falls onto her elbows as he thrusts back in. 

_Oh fuck._ She doesn’t know if it’s too much, and she doesn’t care. An indeterminate amount of time later, whilst she’s still blissed out, his thrusting grows frantic and suddenly stops, collapsing next to her in a sweaty heap.

She collapses, too, closing her eyes.

*

When she leaves the little room, Ben is sleeping. She quietly gathers her things and steps out into the night. 

But before she leaves Kabuki, she sends another message to him.

“Sometimes two people find themselves in the wrong place at the right time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
